


Into You

by watyonameisgurl



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Inspired by an Ariana Grande Song, M/M, Song: Into You (Ariana Grande), bodyguard!liam, famous!zayn, into you, music video, music video au, totally unrealistic proportions of alcohol consumption, very minor mentions of pr relationships
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-26
Updated: 2019-12-26
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:00:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,228
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21970294
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/watyonameisgurl/pseuds/watyonameisgurl
Summary: A Ziam AU based on Ariana Grande’s Into You music video.That’s it. That’s the entire plot.
Relationships: Zayn Malik/Liam Payne
Comments: 18
Kudos: 63





	Into You

**Author's Note:**

> **FYI Boötes is pronounced like boo-OH-tees**  
> 
> 
> also this was originally supposed to only be around 1000-2000 words max, but i severely underestimated just how much backstory and explanation would be needed to fill in the gaps between scenes and now here we are at over 10k of ridiculous schmoopy nonsense and i’m sorry

Zayn hates these kinds of parties.

It’s all arse-kissing and fake smiles, meaningless conversations and annoying pricks just looking to get a picture or a social media mention. If he had a choice about it he’d rather be literally anywhere else. But he doesn’t.

“Zayn! Zayn!” the photogs call. “Can we get a picture over this way please?”

Zayn pivots slightly to the right, smile wide and tight, hand around the waist of his latest Arm Candy. As far as the public knows anyway. Behind closed doors it couldn’t be further from the truth, considering they’ve got about as much in common as…well…Zayn can’t even think of two things that compare to how little of a connection there is between them. But everything in their world is a business and that’s all this is, a smart business deal between two mutual parties.

The paps get their pictures—from all 57 angles and 23 different positions, making them look as “loved up” as possible and then it’s finally time for them to move on to the next It Couple making their way in.

Zayn and his Contractual Obligation go their separate ways without a word as soon as they’re out of sight of the cameras, Zayn heading straight to the bar for a drink as she absorbs herself head-on into the crowd of people to schmooze.

Drink in hand, Zayn makes his way to a table in the corner, his security tailing him from an appropriate enough distance so as not to be too obvious. He takes a seat and a sip from his drink, pulling out his phone just for something to do with his hands when his drink’s not in it.

He’s really only here to make an appearance so he’s not planning on staying long, despite whatever plans his management might have for him. Whatever. They can find something else for him to make up for it later. They’re well aware by now how much he detests these things so really it’s their fault for continuing to subject him to it and then expecting anything different than him ducking out early.

Out on the middle of the floor his Contractual Obligation is doing the usual amount of arse-kissing and over-the-top flattery—which is to say a lot—and he watches her fake-laugh and kiss cheeks like she’s got an endless amount of energy, and compliments, to extend.

He’d never admit it out loud but honestly sometimes he finds himself envying—just a _little_ —how unfazed she seems by all this, like she’s exactly in her element and wouldn’t ever dream of being anywhere else. But then he remembers how miserable an existence that must be, only ever finding fulfillment in the fake compliments and even faker (botoxed) smiles of people who are only ever really looking to befriend you for something to gain.

He gets up for another drink, flashing smiles and meting out the minimum amount of handshakes and polite exchanges of small talk to still be seen as cordial as he makes his way through the ever-increasing throng of people on the floor and over to the bar. Then it’s back to his table in blessed silence once more.

He can feel his security details’ eyes on him as he sits back down—well, one of them anyway, the other’s a bit too busy eye-fucking the redhead two tables away. Not that Zayn blames him one bit, she’s fit and by the looks of it eye-fucking the guy right back. Not to mention this party’s boring as all hell and there’s about as much chance of Zayn’s life actually being endangered as there is of anyone with less than six figures to their name even daring to show their face here. Which is to say none.

Zayn smirks to himself as he sips at his jack and coke. Looks like more than one of his bodyguards will be getting some tonight.

~

An hour and a half into the party and Zayn’s about reached his limit of meaningless social interaction. He’s been planning to slip out for a while but just for sport, and maybe a little for his own amusement, he waits till the one moment his security’s attention is elsewhere. One of them in particular anyway.

He leaves his half-finished glass on the table so they know he hasn’t just gotten up for another drink and slips out the service door that opens to the back alley of the building. The night air is cool against his face, slightly flushed from the four jack and cokes, but that’s his normal at parties like this. Just enough to take the edge off and make it a little more tolerable for a little longer. He’s not drunk, nowhere near it, just a little buzzed maybe. Four drinks hasn’t been enough to get him drunk in a long time. Too many years of parties like this one inadvertently building up his tolerance.

Further down the alley a scantily clad bloke dressed in a crop top and jeans so ripped they might as well just be shorts eyes him curiously.

“You looking for me, sugar?” he intones, popping a cherry red lolly out of his mouth with a sinfully pretty smile.

Zayn shakes his head with an amused smile, inwardly impressed at the business savvy—and pure balls—scalping a party like this for potential clients requires. In another life he might’ve taken the guy up on his offer, after all, the bloke’s well fit. But Zayn’s too famous to chance getting himself wrapped up in the kind of scandal that could surely cause (and too preoccupied by a certain other someone to even really be interested anyway).

Not that getting caught with another guy would do any kind of irreparable damage to his image or anything. It’s no secret that he likes guys. After all Zayn’s openly bi, but Female Arm Candy still tends to go over better with the public as far as likeability. Something that would most definitely _not_ bode so well if he were caught with a guy who also happened to be a prostitute.

Or, in his particular case, an employee.

Speaking of the devil, right on cue just as expected the door opens, and out steps just the person he’s been waiting for.

“Just what do you think you’re playing at?” Liam says, and he sounds a bit annoyed but in a fond, teasing kind of way instead of a serious way, as he swipes the cigarette out of Zayn’s hands just as Zayn lights it, and then puts it between his own lips.

Zayn grins, self-satisfied, watching Liam take a puff before he passes it back to Zayn.

“You think you’re so clever, don’t you?”

“No. I know I am,” Zayn says, taking the cigarette back. He smirks at Liam’s exasperated look as he takes a drag. He wants to kiss him but they’re still too exposed here. So for now he settles for second-hand kisses, the two of them passing the fag back and forth until it’s down to the filter.

Zayn crushes under it the toe of one of his $5,000 shoes, reveling in the fact that no matter how many times he does it there’s always something so satisfying about dirtying up something so unnecessarily expensive. Like his own private fuck you to consumerism culture. He hates it. The $8,000 cufflinks and the diamond-encrusted watches and the bespoke suits that cost more than his childhood house. And he knows getting a little dirt or ash on them every now and again does nothing towards actually helping the real problem or hurting the pockets of any of the people who are benefiting from it all, but it’s something. A private little vindication just for himself. Besides you’ve got to play the game to win it and the Contractual Obligations and useless parties and unnecessarily expensive showy bullshit are the only ways to guarantee your continued spot in it in the end.

“Come on,” Zayn says, taking Liam’s hand and pulling him up the alley until they’re back at the front corner of the building where the valet is.

Back in view of too many familiar faces, Zayn distracts himself from his desire to touch Liam again by shoving his hands in his pockets while they wait for their car to be pulled around, Liam quickly texting his partner.

“We good?” Zayn says.

“Yeah, he’s gonna catch a ride with someone else. Told him you had a few too many and I’m just taking you home to sleep it off.”

Zayn can’t help smiling a little to himself. Sure, there’s a part of him that wishes they didn’t have to hide. But he won’t deny that there’s also something kind of fun and thrilling about keeping it all a secret. He sometimes gets a little bit of a rush at the clandestineness of it all.

Like when Liam will briefly put a hand at Zayn’s back under the guise of safely guiding him to his destination, while no one around them’s the wiser to the fact that it’s really just an excuse for Liam to touch him.

When their car arrives Zayn can’t help smiling to himself again when Liam does just that as he “helps” Zayn up into the the SUV’s passenger seat.

They sit in comfortable silence, the radio humming low in the background as they cruise through the city streets, glancing at each other with furtive smiles every now and then, catching each other staring.

“Hey,” Zayn says when they’re halfway to his house, hand coming to rest over Liam’s on the gear. “Let’s go away somewhere.”

“What?” Liam says, turning to him with an adorably confused smile. “Go away where?”

Zayn shrugs. “I don’t know. Anywhere. Let’s just…grab some clothes and your bike and just drive.”

Liam looks at him for a long time as they wait for the light to turn. “You’re serious?”

“As a heart attack.” Zayn nods.

Liam lets out a soft little snort, turning back to the road as he takes off, shaking his head, but a moment later, still smiling a bit in disbelief he says, “Alright.”

~

Liam’s motorcycle has become a bit of a permanent fixture in Zayn’s driveway of late and it sits perched like it’s waiting for them as they pull up to his house. They’re supposed to just be making a pit-stop for clothes and to change but Zayn can’t help diving in to kiss Liam the second they reach his door and they end up just stumbling through the entryway in a mess of limbs, and then making out against the kitchen counter and then the bottom of the stairwell.

“ _Clothes_ ,” Liam hums into his mouth like a reminder, pulling away to swat at Zayn’s bum and then chase him up the stairs.

Halfway up Zayn turns back to drag Liam in for another kiss by his unbuttoned collar. Liam obliges him for a moment but then he’s pulling away again and spinning Zayn bodily back around in front of him.

“ _Clothes_ , Mr. Impatient, this was _your_ idea.”

Hands still at Zayn’s hips Liam walks him up the stairs, chest pressed to Zayn’s back and chin over his shoulder, tickling his sides a bit and Zayn giggles. When they reach the top Liam peppers the back of his neck with kisses which only gets him more giggles for his efforts until Zayn’s squirming away saying, “Okay, okay, I’m going.”

Zayn grabs himself some clothes and a few toiletries while Liam, who’s long since had his own set of drawers by now, does the same beside him. They throw everything in a joint backpack that Zayn slings over his shoulder before hopping up onto his dresser and dragging Liam back in to kiss him again until both their lips are red and swollen.

“Are we ever actually gonna get out of here?” Liam teases, forehead pressed to Zayn’s with a smile.

“Shut up,” Zayn says, pushing him back so he can hop down and then tugging Liam by the hand down the stairs.

“Any particular direction?” Liam says once they’re back outside, hopping on his bike and handing Zayn the second helmet as he tugs on his own.

“Umm…East,” Zayn answers, settling in behind him.

“East it is,” Liam says and then they’re taking off back into the dark city streets.

They ride for hours. So many twists and turns from Zayn picking this backroad and that completely at random that neither of them have any idea where they are, but _God_ does it feel so nice to just be _away_. Away from the lights, away from the cameras, away from all the people and the expectations, from the smell of desperation and the heavy weight of too expensive clothes. Just _away_.

When the sun starts to rise over the horizon, turning the sky a beautiful soft pink, Zayn puts his hands up and tips his head back, wanting to feel and taste the freedom the open air brings. On either side of them desert sand stretches out for miles and miles, giving way to beautiful golden mountains in the distance and Zayn feels so free and weightless he could scream.

Instead he howls, which to be honest still feels just as good.

Liam shakes with laughter, and over the loud whine of the motor calls, “ _What_ is going on back there? Have you turned into a teen wolf when I wasn’t looking?”

“Yup,” Zayn says and then promptly continues howling, hands still up, face tilted to the early morning sky. The sound echoes through the air and off the hills in the distance, carried on the wind like a song and it makes him grin as they ride on through an endless open sea of pink sky and golden earth.

~

Sometime around lunch they reach a patch of civilization again. A little town on the outskirts of the desert and it feels like they’ve walked into another world. The town center still has a payphone, there’s not a neon light in sight, hardly a single hint of modern technology but for the odd person or two he spots with a cell phone, and best of all, not one person recognizes him—or at least no one lets on that they do.

They eat breakfast at a little diner, holding hands under the table and the waitress never once asks for a selfie or gives any indication that she even knows who Zayn is. They share a slice of apple pie—which the diner claims to be famous for—and a strawberry milkshake for desert, faces inches from each other across the table and no one bats an eye. Not even when Liam scoops up a dollop of the whipped cream from atop the pie onto his finger, swipes it across Zayn’s nose, and then leans over the table to kiss it off. For such a small, isolated town Zayn’s gotta give them credit for their progressiveness—or possibly just willingness to commit to minding their own business, which is just as well to Zayn.

He’s wary to chance it but they walk through the town hand in hand afterwards and, surprisingly, don’t even get so much as a single funny look. He and Liam spend all day touring the town, just cruising through different shops—bookstores, an antique shop, a cute little bakery. They even have time to go see a movie at the little old-fashioned movie theater in the center of town. It’s the best day Zayn’s had in longer than he can even remember.

“So…where to next?” Liam says, finishing up the last of his chocolate vanilla swirl ice cream cone as he leans on his bike. The sun’s long gone below the horizon, and the stars are so clear out here, a million lights twinkling up above and all around them in the open night sky. It makes Liam look a bit like something out of a movie with the backdrop of the star-studded desert behind him and Zayn just wants to stand here and look at him for a little, capture this moment.

Zayn shrugs, licking a bit of what’s left of his own cone of chocolate chip before it can drip all over his hands. “Dunno,” he says, finally. “But wherever we go I want some alcohol. And games.”

It may be dumb but those are the only things he can think of that could possibly make this already incredibly amazing day even better.

“Games?” Liam repeats, a disbelieving grin on his face. “What, like, find a full chess set somewhere or something?”

“Shut up,” Zayn says, licking the last of his ice cream from his lips with a smile of his own and coming to press himself into Liam’s side against the motorcycle. “But I don’t know, maybe just some kiddie game at a shop or something.”

Liam glances down at his watch a bit uncertainly. “Pretty sure most everything that would have something like that’s about closed by now. Not sure how much luck we’ll have, but we can try I guess.”

When they’ve both finished off their ice cream he hands Zayn his helmet and they hop back on his bike, riding the rest of the way through town.

Liam’s right. Most things are closed, but for the diner and the town liquor store, which shouldn’t come at as much of a surprise as it does considering they’d basically watched everything around them about shut down around 9 walking through the town center eating their ice cream. But Zayn had been hoping, naively it seems, there’d at least be a CVS or a Target or something still open. Evidently even national chains’ normal business hours don’t apply to small towns like this where everyone goes to bed at a time when Zayn’s usually just getting his night started back in LA. The change is disorienting for sure, but also kind of nice, peaceful. A nice change of pace from the loud, neon-lit, fast-paced, high-energy nightlife of the city.

“What kind of wine do you want?” Liam asks as they peruse the aisles of the liquor store.

“The cheapest you can find. The cheaper, the better,” Zayn says. He’s so tired of stupidly expensive things. There’s a burning need in him to get back to some semblance of normal, back before his life spiraled so far out of his own control; an ache to go back to simpler times even it does mean shitty alcohol and bad decisions.

Liam grabs a couple of bottles of the cheapest wine they have and a small pack of cups. At the register there’s a little rack with lots of random knick-knacks, including packs of cards, and he grabs one of those too, flashing a conspiratorial grin at Zayn as he slides it across the counter to be rung up. It’s the closest thing to a game they’re probably gonna find and Zayn smiles back gratefully, always so thankful for Liam’s thoughtfulness. Honestly, it’s amazing he even made it this far without a Liam in his life cause he can’t imagine life now without him. He slides a few packets of crisps and gummies and animal crackers from the snack rack across the counter too and once everything’s paid for and bagged they throw it all in the bike’s under-seat storage area and take off into the night again.

It’s not long till they reach the town sign announcing they’re leaving and thanking them for their visit and they’re back on the open road. The sky is a velvety black, the stars shining bright and vibrant above them, the mountains regal dark shadows on the horizon. But a spot of neon in the distance catches Zayn’s eye, so out of place in the stark and quiet darkness.

Curious, Zayn signals for Liam to make the turn off the main road towards it. They’re only about a couple miles out from the edge of the little town they’d stopped in, but with everything else around nothing but desert as far as they can see Zayn hadn’t expected to come upon anything else. Especially not something so garish as to have neon lights here right smack in the middle of the desert, miles away from the closest signs of civilization. When they pull up to the drive though he realizes why and can’t help smiling.

The neon sign is part of a small window display that reads _ROOMS FOR RENT_ in bright pink lettering. And the display belongs to what has to be the seediest, most low-brow motel Zayn’s probably ever laid eyes on. He couldn’t be happier.

Excited, he pulls Liam up off the bike as soon as they come to a stop and Liam tugs off his helmet, dropping it on the seat next to Zayn’s to look around properly with furrowed brows.

“Seriously? _Here_? Are you sure?”

Zayn nods, tongue between his teeth, feeling a bit like a kid in a candy shop as he tugs Liam toward the check-in area.

“You know,” Liam grumbles as they go, “if you weren’t a world-famous popstar I’d be worried you just brought me to the perfect place to murder me in. Still might be actually. Is that why you picked this place? Am I about to get murdered?”

“Yup. It’s all part of my secret evil plan,” Zayn says breezily, still tugging Liam along.

On the way they pass an old-fashioned black and white sign in front of the building announcing the place as the Honeymoon Inn. It only makes it seem even more like exactly the kind of perfectly terrible get-away spot they need right now.

~

Room key in hand, Zayn thrums with excitement holding onto Liam as he maneuvers his bike to a spot around back so they can be closer to their room. Once they’re parked again Zayn can’t help tugging Liam up and over to their room, his back to the door because he doesn’t want to take his eyes off Liam and the way he looks in the dim light of the motel drive. There’s something so wild and exhilarating about the way everything looks and feels here, sinful in the best way. It makes him wanna do all kinds of dirty things to Liam. But that’s for later.

Right now he just wants to have a little fun, enjoy the night.

Unlocking the door, he slips their backpack full of clothes off his shoulders and lets it fall to the floor, leaning up to kiss Liam briefly, playfully, and then pushing him right back out the door, hands at his chest, not quite ready to shut himself off from the view of the starry night sky. Liam laughs, going easily and, bags of drinks and snacks still in his hand, he looks around briefly before pulling Zayn across the little porch-like area that brackets the back of each room and around the corner of the building.

Against the wall is one of those industrial sized metal ice freezers, and a little further away a small vending machine, a couple of plastic chairs strewn about the lot. Zayn tries to hop himself up on top of the freezer but spectacularly fails until Liam steps in to help, the two of them giggling all the way as if they’re already drunk as Liam hoists Zayn’s legs around his waist and then up on top of it. As soon as he’s settled, Zayn makes grabby hands at the drinks and Liam laughs, passing him one of the bottles and holding out a cup for them to share. Zayn fills it up to the top, nearly overflowing it, and then takes a generous sip. And by sip he means chugging half the cup before Liam snatches it away from him, laughing as he downs the rest.

“I feel like I’m back in secondary school,” Zayn says, still half breathless from laughter as he drums his fingers idly against the edge of the freezer.

“Oh yeah? You take a lot of guys to seedy motels to get drunk on cheap wine in secondary school?” Liam teases, putting the empty cup aside and dropping his hands to Zayn’s thighs as he pulls himself forward to rest his chin in the space between Zayn’s knees.

Not for the first time Zayn’s so thankful that his team managed to find someone who happened to be a fellow Brit. With Liam he never has to worry at all about things getting lost in translation, jokes made in dry British humor falling on deaf ears. Never has to censor what he says or second-guess his word choices. It may be silly but he can’t help himself and he leans down over the edge of the freezer to kiss Liam in thanks just for being him. His heart feels so big tonight it’s a miracle it doesn’t beat right out of his chest, especially when he pulls back and Liam stays right where he is, pressing the gentlest kiss to his bare knee through the massive hole in his ripped blue jeans.

He’s not sure how long they sit there like that talking and laughing and drinking. It feels like hours but that might just be the cheap wine. Especially because somewhere along the line he’d given up on cups and just started drinking straight from the bottle so he’s really not sure how much he’s had. But between that and the couple of old joints he’d found stashed in his jacket pocket—from who knows when or where—it’s enough to leave him feeling pleasantly mellow and outside of time.

At some point Liam has the bright idea to play games with the snacks, to make up for the fact that they couldn’t find anything better than cards, and they take turns trying to toss random snacks into each other’s mouths from various distances. Liam claims he’s keeping score, but the scoring rules make no sense and Zayn’s pretty sure Liam’s literally just making it up as he goes along but he doesn’t much care in the moment, content to just be here with Liam living out this little crazy, wild, indie rom-com-like fantasy.

He wishes this could be their lives for real. Just the two of them out on the open road, no responsibilities, traveling from town to town, city to city whenever they want, living free like this all the time. But both their jobs make that impossible. And it’s not that Zayn regrets any of his decisions. He loves his job—and very occasionally the fame that comes with it—and he knows Liam does too. He knows if either of them had a choice about it, if they had to do it all again, they wouldn’t do anything any differently. Well, maybe some small contractual things on Zayn’s part—things that had seemed insignificant and inconsequential at the time, when he’d been so desperate to just make his dreams come true, that he wishes he hadn’t signed away now—but that’s neither here nor there. Mostly he just wishes he and Liam could just be together without having to worry about all the consequences and backlash all the time. But he’s not looking to be the next Britney Spears-esque scandal or to have Liam’s name dragged through the mud as if he’s the next Kevin Federline either. Plus there’s also the small matter of the fact that the public still believes him to already be in a committed relationship that at the moment has no hints of ending anytime soon.

His tween fans are invested and, shitty as it may be, he’s got them to think about too. After all they do make up a large portion of his fanbase and a gay cheating scandal like that would not bode well. Not for the kids who’ve grown up in this day and age in the #Cancel Culture era of social media that’s rampant with internet social justice and peer pressure to drop anyone who so much as looks at a female-identified person wrong, much less gets accused of cheating on one with another man who also happens to be his employee. Nor would it bode well in the eyes of the parents who still monitor everything their kids see and listen to. No way would they be agreeing to buy concert tickets or albums or merch from Zayn anymore with a scandal like that hanging over his head.

But he doesn’t wanna think about any of that right now. It would only blow his buzz.

Instead he focuses on trying to tackle Liam across the lot after the other man throws his arms up in triumph, declaring himself the winner of their dumb little game. All he gets for his efforts is a giggle as Liam picks him up and spins him around, then sets him back down and backs him up until he’s boxed in against the doors of the freezer. When Liam leans in to kiss him though Zayn deftly ducks out from under him and jumps onto his back, laughing like a little kid, loud and open-mouthed before pressing a teasing kiss to Liam’s cheek.

“If you wanted to ride me, all you had to do was say so,” Liam jokes, spinning them around again so Zayn’s world is a blur of pink neon, shitty blue vending machine lighting, and the pale yellow glow of barely working lamps. Zayn snorts, pressing his unabashed snickers into the back of Liam’s neck. The irony lies in the fact that they rarely do things that way anyway. Liam likes being taken apart too much, being able to shed that tough armor that he has to constantly keep up and on guard when he’s working and just let Zayn take over, and Zayn loves being able to do that for him, loves getting to watch him let it all fall away and giving Liam everything he needs. But tonight Zayn thinks he’d be up for pretty much anything, could be easily persuaded to go a different route if Liam wanted.

He nips at Liam’s neck playfully in a way that he hopes reads _shut up_ , but also _I’m game if you are_ , as clearly as he wants it to and then drops down from his back, tugging Liam over to the vending machine to finally give him that kiss he wanted. And then, just in case his teeth weren’t clear enough before, he lifts himself up to wrap his legs around Liam’s hips so he really gets the message.

Liam huffs out a laugh at his obviousness as he moves from Zayn’s lips to his neck but before Liam can get to the spot at Zayn’s pulse point that always drives him crazy, Zayn drops down to his feet and flips them around. Pressing Liam back against the vending machine, Zayn leans for a quick chaste kiss and then dashes away, back over the porches towards their room. Affronted, Liam gapes for a second and then calls out, “Tease!” as he chases after him.

Zayn laughs a little too self-satisfyingly as he runs and deftly dodges chairs, not at all sorry. If there’s one thing he’s always loved more than being with Liam, it’s messing with him. That’s how this whole thing even started anyway.

Back on tour almost three years ago when Liam was still new to Zayn’s security team, he’d delighted at the fact that Liam was always so easy to rile up. Zayn would tell a dirty joke or pull a prank on one of his back-up singers and Liam would get this look almost like a disapproving father while pretending to seem unbothered (and doing a terrible job at it, Zayn might add). It only ever made Zayn wanna up the ante, if for nothing else than to get a real rise out of Liam until one day he upped the ante a little too far.

Sneaking onto the security team’s bus to shave a patch out of Liam’s eyebrow while he was sleeping was one thing (a thing that Liam had very fairly gotten him back for many times over). But kissing him while half-drunk and a whole hell of a lot high when Liam was just trying to help him safely to his hotel bed was, in hindsight, admittedly not the smartest idea. Liam could have punched him, or worse, outed him—because at the time he wasn’t publicly out yet—or done any number of horrible things in retribution, especially considering that Zayn wasn’t even sure then whether Liam was straight, or liked guys at all, or was possibly even secretly a giant raging homophobe. But instead Liam had kissed him back. And then promptly left and avoided talking to Zayn for over a week, out of fear of being fired and guilt over taking advantage of a very inebriated Zayn. Until Zayn finally cornered him and inadvertently forced them both to talk everything out.

Most of the time Zayn hates his fucked up brain. He feels like he spends half his time with not enough of a filter, always saying the wrong thing or saying the right thing in the wrong way, getting reckless and impulsive, letting his emotions get the best of him and making stupid decisions because of it; and the other half with too much a filter, never really trusting anyone, never really letting anyone in past the walls he’s so carefully built up around himself. But if it hadn’t been for Zayn’s idiot brain never knowing when to leave well enough alone they wouldn’t be here and for that he’s thankful. So it’s only right that he pays homage to it all tonight of all nights.

Swinging around a column in the back of someone else’s room he flashes Liam a teasing smile and then dashes back in the direction of the lot just before Liam can reach him. Dances past Liam and over to the Honeymoon Inn sign that mirrors the one back on the front side of the building and plops himself down in front of it. He hears a long suffering sigh, shoes scuffing back and forth against the pavement and then the rustling of bags and moments later Liam is coming to join him with cups, the remaining bottle of wine, and the rest of the snacks in tow.

Liam pours them both a cup and they toast to the night. But Zayn misjudges how full his cup is and nearly spills it all over himself as he takes a drink, pitching forward over his own knees to sputter and cough like an inexperienced teenager who’s just tried his first beer. When Liam can’t stop laughing at him Zayn grabs a blue candy ring gummy and shoves it in his mouth just to shut him up. Except it kind of backfires because he gets so caught up in how good Liam looks eating candy off his fingers that he can’t help immediately feeding him another and another just to watch.

Liam grins at him in a way that tells Zayn he probably looks pretty dopey and out of it right now as he holds out another gummy ring while staring at Liam’s lips, but Liam just leans in and takes it between his teeth slowly and sultrily. A tease. Payback for earlier. But he’s not as strong-willed as Zayn is when it comes to reaping the consequences of his own teasing. Or keeping up with it for very long for that matter and, unlike Zayn might have, Liam doesn’t back away when Zayn leans in to take the other half of the gummy between his own teeth, pulling it apart. Liam chases after it, biting at the little bit that still sticks out from Zayn’s mouth when Zayn taps at it, quietly signaling for Liam to come and get it. And then, still a breath away from Zayn’s lips, Liam waits for them both to finish chewing before he leans in for a real kiss, hand curling sweetly over Zayn’s jaw.

Zayn’s lips are good and swollen by the time they pull apart but so are Liam’s so he figures it about balances out. As he gets to his feet, he digs into the bag of gummies once more, pulls one out, and tosses it at Liam so it lands square in the middle of his forehead before bouncing to the ground.

Liam gets that exasperated disapproving dad look he loves so much, and Zayn presses one last quick _sorry, not sorry_ kiss to his lips before laughing and bouncing away again. He lingers at the porch columns, winding around them teasingly, letting Liam gather their things back up into the bag and catch up to him and then pulling him in for another kiss. But a sharp noise from the room they’re standing behind makes them jump apart a few moments later and, snickering like caught kids, Zayn takes Liam’s hand as they dash away, back around the corner to the front of their own room before anyone can come out to hound them.

Zayn pulls him in for intermittent kisses as then they dance around the car park like idiots, both of them clearly feeling the wine a little more now.

“Hey,” Liam whispers into his mouth between kisses and sporadic dance breaks. “I love you.”

“I know,” Zayn whispers back the next time they twirl together again and Liam rolls his eyes at the Star Wars reference.

In retribution Liam stops their little aimless dance of intermittent kissing and swaying and spinning together to spin slowly by himself. Standing in the middle of the car park, arms splayed out with the tied up plastic bag still hanging from his fingers, he belt outs, “I love Zayn Malik!” into the sky loud enough for the entire building and probably even the nearby town to hear.

“Oh, my God,” Zayn groans as he drops down into a crouch, head in his hands, embarrassed as hell but still shaking with laughter. And then promptly shoots back up to his feet when Liam only belts it out again a moment later, even louder than the first time.

He tugs Liam in by his jacket collar, kissing him just to get him to shut up again, muttering, “Okay, okay, fine, I love you too,” as he goes, and then pressing a harried finger to his lips while trying not to laugh. “Now shhhh. God, you’re so embarrassing, I can’t take you anywhere.”

Liam just grins, unashamed, and Zayn pulls him back in. Can’t ever help himself with that smile. Liam laughs into his mouth like he knows and, moving backwards, tugs Zayn into their room after him.

~

The first thing Liam does as soon as the door is closed behind him is make as if he means to undo the buckle on his jeans. But then his hand slips quickly to the side, over to his pocket instead, and he pulls out the pack of cards with a smirk.

“Oh-o, now who’s the tease?” Zayn jokes, coming forward again to wrap his hand around Liam’s wrist and pull him down to the floor in front of the bed where he’s piled pillows for them to lean on. Liam goes easily, smiling all the way and making a show of landing fully on top of Zayn like a giant smothering ragdoll just to be annoying.

“Get _off_ ,” Zayn gripes, despite his own laughter, pushing at Liam’s shoulders ineffectively.

“But you’re so comfy,” Liam says, wiggling around like Zayn’s a giant pillow and he really does mean to get comfortable on top of him, but a moment later he relents, sitting back up and stealing a quick kiss.

Zayn scoffs, pretending to be scandalized, but Liam just smiles self-satisfyingly, already busying himself getting the cards out, shuffling, and dealing.

“So, what are we playing?” Zayn asks.

“Go Fish, Tomlinson Edition. It’s like Go Fish…but not.”

Zayn rolls his eyes. “I’m convinced you just like playing games you can make up the rules to you as go.”

Liam says nothing to this, pretending to be focused on artfully arranging his own hand of cards, lip between his teeth in a show of intense concentration.

Halfway through, when Liam’s predictably winning because yet again the rules make absolutely no sense, Zayn slaps down a card, triumphant. He’s sure he’s won the round this time because it’s the same play Liam made against him earlier in the game and vengeance is sweet.

Liam just looks down at the card and shakes his head.

Zayn scoffs for real this time, playfully flinging his cards in Liam’s face—the dirty cheater—and snatching the rest of Liam’s cards out of his hand so he can no longer wield his stupidly annoying power with them.

Liam just laughs, clearly way too pleased with himself as he leans over from his already fairly precarious slouch against the edge of the bed to wrap his arms around Zayn’s middle and tuck his chin over Zayn’s shoulder.

“Fair warning, whoever this Tomlinson guy is who taught you all these games with rules that make no sense, if I ever meet him I’m coming for his knee caps,” Zayn says, re-shuffling the cards and stacking them out on the floor as he deals. “Now, new game. Blackjack, Malik Edition.”

As they play Liam keeps trying to distract him, leaning over for kisses while slyly attempting to peek at Zayn’s cards or just take his attention off the game but Zayn’s not having it. Most of the time he lets Liam get just close enough that he thinks he’s gonna get his kisses and then slyly pulls away before their lips can actually touch. Most of the time. There may be a few times his resolve breaks, after all his will’s not exactly iron-fortified, especially when it comes to Liam and those hypnotizing lips. But, subject to Zayn’s made-up rules this time, Liam eventually, _finally_ , gets his just desserts and concedes his loss and Zayn does a little triumphant dance in his spot to celebrate before dropping down to his hands and knees. Teasingly he crawls across the small space between them to Liam and then straddles himself over Liam’s waist.

“So…how does it feel to lose?” he says.

Liam’s hands instinctively go to his hips and he looks up at Zayn as if he’s seriously contemplating. “Mmm…well, from where I’m sitting, a lot like winning actually.”

Zayn snorts, shoving at his shoulder. “You’re awful, you know that?”

But he leans down to kiss Liam anyway, deep and sensual, hands slipping underneath the back of Liam’s t-shirt collar to smooth over the taut muscles of his back. In turn, Liam’s hands snake up the hem of Zayn’s shirt, tracing over his sides and then up, up, taking Zayn’s shirt with him until it’s high enough to tug off.

Getting to his feet, Zayn clambers over him to the edge of the bed and Liam whines, turning around and pouting at him until Zayn tugs him up to the bed with him. He settles Liam face-up between his knees, the back of Liam’s head resting against Zayn’s chest, hair tickling at Zayn’s jaw and Liam relaxes against him as Zayn’s arms come to wrap around his neck and pull him closer.

“Don’t wanna go too far yet,” Zayn explains, lips at Liam’s ear, rocking them back and forth a little. “Just wanna enjoy the night. Make it last.”

He’s not sure if he’s explaining himself quite right. He knows he’s the one that sort of started it with the way he was kissing and touching, and it’s not like he thinks sex is gonna ruin the night or anything, the exact opposite actually. But he kind of just wants to savor all the quiet moments he gets to have with Liam here, all the soft pink-lit memories they’re making that he knows he’ll look back on fondly. And it’s not like it’s really all that different from how they are behind closed doors any other time. But there’s something different about the energy here, in a way that he knows is more than just the weed or the drinks. Maybe it’s the light or maybe it’s the desert or maybe it’s the starry night sky. But whatever it is it makes him feel like time is moving slower, like this night could last forever, like he could make a million memories full of quiet moments like this right here with Liam. He just wants to hold onto that a little longer. Because he knows once they start taking things further it’s all gonna fly by too fast, that it’ll be morning again before they know it and this night will be just another memory behind them and he’s not quite ready for it to end just yet. He doesn’t know if that meaning manages to come through in the few words he says, the paltry way he tries to explain. But he’s pretty sure Liam understands anyway because he just hums, eyes closed, and relaxes even further against Zayn.

They sit like that for a while, the both of them just resting their eyes, before Zayn starts to miss the feel of Liam’s lips too much and he leans forward to press gentle kisses to his neck, his cheek, his jaw, until Liam turns to meet him, a soft, happy little smile playing at his lips.

They make sure to keep their kisses soft and light this time, but Zayn still loses track of time and space. He’s not sure when or how he ended up over Liam, or beside him, or back under him. He’s definitely not sure how Liam had time to break away to bring the snacks back with them to the bed when he’s certain their lips never parted for more than half a second. But somehow he still ends up laughing like a child with Liam when Liam pulls out an animal cracker and dances it across Zayn’s chest and then down his stomach, making as if he means to dance it all the way down past the waistline of his jeans.

Zayn giggles and squirms away a little, catching Liam’s hand with the animal cracker in his own and Liam comes back up to press tiny, feather-light kisses to Zayn’s neck and chest, still laughing himself. They take turns feeding each other about half the bag of animal crackers, dancing the little animal shapes around before zooming them into each other’s mouths like babies being fed food. It’s silly and a bit weird but it brings him back to happier times. Everything about Liam brings him back to happier times and he loves that when he’s with Liam he never has to worry about putting up a façade, never has to worry about being too weird or judged or misunderstood, or struggle to explain himself. Liam just _gets_ him, in a way no one else ever has and it makes him feel like the luckiest person in the world.

“Hey,” Liam whispers. “D’you wanna go back outside? Stargaze?”

It’s as if he’s read Zayn’s mind. “Hell yeah.”

They bring the drinks and the snacks back out with them. There’s already a couple of plastic chairs and a small table just outside their door and they sit across from each other laughing and talking about nothing, looking up at the stars.

At some point Zayn ends up in Liam’s lap, sharing the second joint between them.

“I think that’s Boötes,” Zayn says, pointing up at the sky.

One arm wrapped around Zayn’s waist, Liam takes a drag of the joint, then pulls it away from his lips and squints up at where Zayn’s pointing. “Buo-tees?” he repeats incredulously. “Now I _know_ you’re just making things up. Sounds to me like you just wanted to say booties, but fancy.”

“Shut up,” Zayn says with a laugh, shoving at Liam and jostling himself a bit in the process. And then a moment later, “Sorry. I‘ve been telling you to shut up a lot tonight.”

“It’s okay. I don’t mind when you do it,” Liam says, passing the joint back to Zayn and reaching for one of the half-full cups of wine on the table beside him.

Zayn knows Liam has a bit of a history with people telling him to do just that, complaining that he talked too much, or was too annoying. But the crinkles by his eyes as he sips at his cup tell Zayn that he really means it when he says he doesn’t mind it coming from Zayn. And it makes his heart warm to know that he can turn something used so much against Liam growing up into something he finds endearing instead.

When Liam finishes his share of his drink, Zayn takes the cup from him and kisses him. He tastes like cheap wine and overpriced weed and animal crackers and the red bag of gummies they’ve been snacking on and it only makes Zayn want him more. But that’s still for later, and instead he forces himself to pull away, downing the rest of Liam’s cup and slamming it down dramatically on the table in exchange for the dusty old map Liam had grabbed from the check-in desk and stuffed in the bag of drinks and snacks when they first arrived.

Zayn unfolds it all the way out, turning it this way and that just to be silly before he finally settles it the right way. “Where should we go next?”

He knows they can’t really go anywhere much further. They’ve both got obligations back in the city and he’s sure his phone is already full of frantic voicemails and text messages and missed calls that he’s been ignoring all day. But it’s fun to imagine they can and Liam catches on quickly, playing right into it as he points to a random spot at least 100 miles away from where they are.

“There,” he says, punctuating the word with a particularly hard tap at the paper. Zayn looks down to the legend to see what it actually is and laughs. Liam _would_ pick some ridiculously garish roadside tourist attraction completely by accident.

“Perfect!” Zayn replies, closing the map again like it’s settled. He sets it down on the table underneath the half-empty second bottle of wine so it doesn’t get blown away in the breeze. But when he turns back it’s to find Liam staring at him, eyes bright.

“What?”

Liam shakes his head, trying and failing to bite back a shy smile. “Nothing.”

“ _What_?” Zayn implores.

Liam shakes his head again, but a moment later he concedes, “Just…I’m so in love with you right now. Always,” he amends. “Your mind, your spirit, just…your everything.”

Ordinarily, were it any other night Zayn would tease him about just being drunk and high but Zayn knows this isn’t coming from that. Liam feels it too, whatever it is that’s in the air here that’s made everything tonight feel that much more special.

Suddenly he scoots Zayn off his lap and plops him back down in the other chair. Grabbing for the bag of red gummies, he drops down to one knee and slides a gummy onto Zayn’s left ring finger and Zayn stares. The moment feels weighted with tension and despite how ridiculously silly it may be Zayn knows, can feel deep in his gut, that there’s an unspoken but more serious intent behind it, even when Liam tries to break the thick tension by leaning forward and taking a bite out of it around his finger.

Zayn laughs, playing along with Liam’s show of frivolity just like Liam had with him earlier. But when Liam looks up at him again and they meet each other’s eyes there’s an earnestness, a sincerity, behind both of their gazes that Zayn knows means this is more than just a joke or a cute game to either of them. There’s a promise in Liam’s eyes that when they get back to the city he might just put a real one on Zayn’s finger and it should be scary, the realization. Because Zayn’s never let anyone in so far behind his walls like he has Liam, he’s never let anyone _see_ all of him, and the thought of forever—the worst and the best of him, the good, bad, and the ugly, for better or worse for the rest of his days—should terrify him. It _used to_ terrify him. But now? He doesn’t think there’s ever been anything in his life he’s wanted more.

He pulls Liam up to kiss him and he doesn’t care anymore about keeping things light or soft. He pours his soul into the space between Liam’s lips and Liam does the same and before they know it they’re scrambling back into the room like two bodies trying to become one, barely able to keep their hands off each other long enough to slam the door shut behind them.

~

Zayn’s not sure how long it is before they wake, though it can’t have been too long because it’s still not quite light out, the sky outside a deep purple and the sun not yet over the horizon. But despite neither of them barely getting any sleep they’re both somehow wide-awake, and even more miraculously, not at all hungover. They lay there for a little while, bare skin to skin, basking in the early morning quiet before Liam gets up, throwing on his clothes and leaving Zayn with one last lingering lazy kiss before he’s out the door. He comes back not too much later with sodas from the vending machine outside and packed up food from the diner, slightly smooshed from being stuffed in the underside of a motorcycle seat that’s not quite wide enough for takeaway containers to fit in.

They sit at the little table by the window, gorging on lukewarm diner waffles and hash browns, which somehow tastes just as amazing as it did fresh, too busy stuffing their faces on good food to talk very much. When they’re done Zayn packs up all their rubbish and goes to toss it in the bins outside. He comes back to find Liam still sitting in place, but with his chin on the table, staring in deep concentration. He’s pulled the weird little fake fish bowl* display—complete with little plastic goldfish floating around in water—from the side of the table out in front of him and is looking at it like it’ll suddenly start producing answers as to why the hell it’s there or who in the world ever thought a fake fish bowl was a good idea as a decoration.

“What are you doing?” Zayn says with a smile, sitting back down across from him.

“I dunno. Think I’m maybe still a little bit high,” Liam answers, still squinting at the bowl.

Zayn snorts but drops his chin down to the table to mirror Liam, reaching out his hand to Liam’s across the table, and squinting to see if he can see whatever it is Liam’s apparently still inebriated brain might be seeing.

He doesn’t. But he’s content to sit with him like this anyway for as long as need be.

By the time the sun is high in the sky they’re packing up to leave and it’s time to say goodbye to the place that was the home to their amazing one-night escapade. Maybe one day they’ll come back, if for nothing else than the memories, but he’s not pinning all his hopes on it or anything.

They’ve already turned in their room key and packed up all their things and Zayn takes one last look around as he closes the door for good. And then he hops onto the back of Liam’s bike, slips his helmet on and they’re taking off again, riding out into a new day; the gold of the desert sand, the yellow of the sun, and the pale orange sky above turning everything around them a beautiful hazy golden color.

They stop every now and then to admire the view in the daytime, to kiss in front of the mountains with nothing but lonely desert animals and stray cactuses as their witnesses, wanting to savor the feeling of freedom for as long as they can. But there’s only so long they can delay the inevitable and much too quickly for Zayn’s liking they’re coming upon the loud, neon-vibrant scene of LA nightlife once again.

They fall into bed together and it’s bittersweet because as nice as it is to be back home, it’s not the zen pink-lit atmosphere of the Honeymoon Inn anymore. It’s back to the real world and they both have a million phone calls to answer to in the morning. But all that can still wait just a little while longer. Because he still has one last night of freedom with Liam and he’s sure as hell going to take his time and enjoy it.

~

_Six Months Later_

“Zayn! Zayn!” the photogs call. “Can we get a picture of you and your fiancé over this way please?”

He pivots slightly to the right, smile wide and genuine, hand around Liam’s waist. The paps get their pictures—from all 57 angles and 23 different positions, and Zayn finds he doesn’t mind one bit. There’s no need anymore to really force the angles to make them look as “loved up” as possible because he’s pretty sure they already look it from every angle but he’s got no qualms about showing it off from as many angles as they might want or need. And the same goes for the ring on his finger.

All loose ends had been tied up nicely with a very public, but “amicable” break-up with his last Contractual Obligation months ago. Everyone who’d worked for or with Zayn over the period that Liam had been a part of his security team has signed NDA’s strictly forbidding them from revealing when and how Zayn and Liam first got together (for those few that knew anyway) or how long they’ve really been engaged for. And Liam’s moved on to working security for someone else, which as hard as it may have been for Zayn to come to terms with the fact that he’d no longer have Liam around 24/7 anymore, had ultimately been for the best because it paved for the way for this. One of the happiest moments of Zayn’s life.

He flashes a dazzling smile every which way, for once content to stand here and take pictures forever if only for an excuse to keep Liam right here by his side and never have to let him go—and also maybe flaunt his love to the world a little because he’s nothing if not shameless about it now that he can be.

They linger so long one of the entrance escorts has to come and politely usher them away from the cameras and toward the door and Zayn still can’t stop smiling.

He’s still not fond of schmoozing with people but he finds it’s a lot easier to do with Liam by his side and the two of them bouncing commentary off each other like they’ve already been married for years. And there’s a lot of schmoozing at this particular event seeing as _everyone’s_ curious about them and can’t seem to help themselves from coming over to give overzealous congratulations and ask prying questions. Questions that neither of them can answer completely truthfully of course, for legal reasons, but Zayn finds he doesn’t even mind talking up the fake story. He used to hate precisely this kind of attention but things are so much different now. It’s kind of nice being the new It Couple on the scene, and having it actually be genuine for once, being able to talk about his relationship with real pride and love even if it is mostly to nosy pretentious pricks whose time would really be better spent minding their own business a bit more.

But there’s still only so much he can take.

Halfway through the party, Zayn sets his half-finished his drink down on his and Liam’s designated table, finds the venue’s back door, and slips outside.

“Up to our old games again, are we?” says a familiar voice barely a few moments later.

Zayn smiles, not turning to look at him yet as he takes a drag from his cigarette. “What fun would life be without games?”

Liam chuckles, coming forward to steal it from Zayn’s fingers and taking his own drag. “No fun at all, I suppose. Quite like this party.”

Zayn reaches down to lace his fingers with Liam’s as he takes the cigarette back with his other hand, taking one last puff. “Ready to get out of here, then?”

Liam grins. “Thought you’d never ask.”

Zayn drops the fag to the ground, crushing it under the toe of his always stupidly expensive shoes and then he’s tugging Liam around the building, keeping their hands firmly entangled in clear view of everyone without a care as they wait for their car to be brought around.

And then, they’re taking off into the night together in bliss.

**Author's Note:**

>  **deleted scene side note for those who’ve seen the video/those who even care to bother reading this lol:** Sooo there was originally gonna be a whole backstory for the fish scene about them happening upon a fair just outside the town and winning some fish as a prize or something and then bringing them back to the room, but then I realized how impractical that would be, what with trying to find a pet store or a place that just happened to have a fish bowl (and was still open) somewhere in the middle of the desert late at night and then how the hell they would deal with transportation of the fish at all cause they can’t very well shove them under the motorcycle seat in the plastic bags they likely would have gotten them in from the fair, nor would it be very safe for Zayn to be just holding several little bags of live fish in one hand as they traveled at high speeds down backroads, and then what would they even do with them when it came time to leave the motel and go back home? Leave them there for someone else to find and hope they get taken care of and not just thrown away? Or arrange for someone on Zayn’s team to come all that way back there just to pick up some fish? It was all just a mess and never really made sense to me even in the context of Ari’s music video anyway so instead I just re-wrote them as plastic fish for decoration, which seemed like a much more feasible (albeit still a bit weird) occurrence/circumstance in my head…anyway just really wanted to get that off my chest but outside of that…
> 
> **Hope you enjoyed!**
> 
> **Comments and kudos (but mostly comments) feed my dark soul! <3**


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